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WOMAN 



AND THE 



WAR. 




A. i=^oE]]vn, 



GEORGE W. BIRDSEYE 



NEW YORK: 

James Dickson, . 3 Tryon Row 

1865. 




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C L U M B I A'S P A T R I T-W OMEN. 



^WOMIJ^N 



AND 



THE WAR. 



A POEM, 

GEORGE W. BIRDS EYE 



•• Erave in emergency, strategic in plan. 
Nursing the wounded, leading in the van, 
rerottd. patriotic, trusted, tried,— 
In War's red glare stands Woman glorified !" 



NEW-YOKK : 
J. Dickson, Book and Job Pkinteu. o Tkvon Row 

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Entered accorLliug to Act of Congress, iu the year 1805, by 
GEORGE AV. BIRDSEY'E, 
la the Clerk's Office of the District Court of the United States for the Southern District 

of New-York. 




.A\ ^ 



ULYSSES S. GRANT. 



Give me your hand, General Grant ; — 

You're a man ! 
You were not the coward to say " I can't!" 

Nor the boaster to say "I can !" 
But you went to work with a will, and won, 
To prove that the thing could be done. 
Oh ! God was kind and Heaven was true 
When it gave us a man like U- 

-lysses Grant, 
When it gave us a man like you ! 

We honor you, General Grant ! 

■ You have made 
The hearts of the nation with joy to pant 

That were lying cold in the shade ! 
And they bless you ever for what you've done- 
For the glorious victory won— 
And pray that kind Heaven may grant a few 
More such brave-hearted men as U- 
-lysses Grant, — 

More such brave-hearted men as you ! 



^V\^OMA.lSr A.]SrD THE ^VJs^n. 



■^ *♦> ^ 



ALONE walked Adam through fair Eden's bowers ,- 
Alone he gazed upon the fadeless flowers ; 
Their perfume rare, and mirrored hues of Heaven, 
A transient pleasure to his soul had given. 
Wearied with these, his tlioughts would sore annoy 
With restless longings for some unknown joy, — 
Some soul to sympathize — to feel witli him 
The bliss that solitude alone could dim. 
The Maker saw his creature's loneliness, 
And gave him lovely woman life to bless ! 
He slept, — and sleeping, dreamed of his ideal, — 
He woke — oh, ecstacy !— the dream was real; 
For Eve's fair face before him sho« the while. 
And drew from raptured Adam, Man's first smile I 
Tof^ether roved they through fair Eden's bowers, — 
Together gazed upon the fadeless flowers, — 
Together raised their fervent prayers to Heaven. 
And Adam praised God for the gift he'd given ; 
While, in his love. Eve lovelier grew each hour ; 
But, while she rose in beauty, rose in power ! 



6 

And soon, obedient to each wish and whim, 
She held poor Adam ! But 'twas joy to him ; 
With her ears heard he — with her eyes he saw, 
And every word she breathed, to him was law ! 
But soon that awful day — sin's natal — came. 
And drove the pair from Paradise to shame ! 
The serpent knew that strongest weakness human, 
(In man mere whim but passion in a woman,) 
Called curiosity^ so he chose Eve, 
With wicked wiles to tempt her, and deceive. 
And soon she yielded. Conscience' voice grown mute. 
And, plucking, tasted the forbidden fruit ; 
Then gave to Adam, to divide the sin, — 
Who joyed to place his lips where hers had been. 
That fatal fruit the seeds of evil bore. 
To spread its curse o'er mankind evermore ; 
And humble Adam, and weak, prying Eve, 
Were forced their forfeit Paradise to leave ; 
While angels wept that Heaven gave no reprieve. 

Yet, though through woman man his Eden lost, 
And to the tide of tedious toil was tossed, 
Still, since that hour, in softest, sweetest tone. 
Has man to woman his allegiance shown. 
And humbly bowed before her tyrant throne. 
For, when prosperity becomes our lot, 
Man grows effeminate, and woman — what ? 



A dainty darling, full of flowing fancy, — 

Whose aim, I^m sure, but few, if any, can see ; 

Claiming her rightful feminine exactions — 

Wielding the while bewildering attractions ; 

Her sway despotic surely is deplorable. 

And she herself (though holding slaves) adorable. 

But, when wild war with waking warning comes, 

And hurls his hatred to our hearts and homes, — 

When Man stands forth in firm defence of principle. 

To prove that right must ever be invincible, — 

When he thus boldly battles — bravely bleeds, 

Is Woman wanting in great noble deeds ? 

Does she shrink back, when needs of toil and trial, 

Require her patience, courage, self-denial ? 

Does she still cling, in senseless, void inanity, 

To small frivolity, and smaller vanity ? 

NoI^As the sweet-lipped blossoms, that in spring 

Perch on the boughs like birds just taking wing, 

Their forms delighting every airy comer, 

When, feeling now the blazing breath of summer, 

The powers for good, that latent lay so long, 

Burst forth to action, energetic, strong ; 

And, throwing off their fine and flimsy suit, 

Give longing mortals soothing, luscious fruit ; — 

So woman ! — ruled by fashion's sole dictation, — 

Zealous for naught, unless for admiration, — 

The wants of ivar exalt to her true station ; 



And those rare qualities, so long abused, 

Show their intrinsic worth — required and used ; 

Those attributes peculiarly her own. 

Shine forth with all their foreign coverings flown ; 

Her tender heart — her calm, considerate mind, 

With manly strength and courage is combined. 

Brave in emergency, strategic in plan, 

Nursing the wounded, leading in the van. 

Devoted, patriotic, trusted, tried, — 

In War^s red glare stands woman glorified ! 

Turn back in thought o'er time's long-trodden way, 
Through nation's alternated night and day. 
Four centuries. We see a simple girl. 
As artless as the winds that toss her curl. 
Tripping along Domremi's hill and dale, 
With singing lip and swinging hand and pail. 
But look again ! — the girl is g-irl no more. 
But changed to woman by the wand of war. 
She stands alone to spur an army on. 
Thrice had the English foe the victory won ; 
And now, disheartened, vanquished, no defender 
Remains for country, but for base surrender. 
She stands alone, with heart that fear defies, 
Her soul a flame that struggles through her eyes ; 
Her ardent words of patriotic fire. 
Their souls with spirit like her own inspire. 



" Lead on !" Once more each grasps his battle blade, 

Led on by Orleans' iron-hearted maid. 

Within the very vortex of the fight, 

Brave Joan guides them like a beacon light ; 

Their arms seem gifted with a stranger might. 

For 'neath their every stroke the foeman falls ; 

While her firm voice, in ringing accents, calls : 

" On! on ! till Death or Victory is ours !" 

On — on, renewed their hopes, renewed their powers, 

They rush to onset, terrible, but grand. 

Beneath the shadow of war's bloody hand. 

Nobly they fight ! At last the strife is done. 

And ivoman hero of the battle won ! 

Look once again !— How changed her proud position ! 

A victim to blind England's superstition, 

Condemned for sorcery ;— as though no woman, 

Save by the aid of powers superhuman. 

Could do so bold a deed of noble daring. 

Bound to the burning stake, a valiant bearing, 

A form unflinching, now is hers,— the same 

As when she fought to save her country's name. 

The flame wreathes round her ! from her glowing eyes 

A swift, respondent flash of flame replies ; 

Glides o'er her pale, firm features, far more bright 

Than these, a radiant consciousness of right, 

That, after life, still leaves its lingering light ! 



10 

Her nation's poets her proud praises sing 
As martyr to Religion, Country, King ; — 
Joan of Arc deserves one title more, — 
A brave, heroic woman ! 

Coming o'er 
Time's traveled course, on our returning way, 
We find examples nearer to our day : 
Maria Theresa, Hungary's — Austria's Queen, — 
Was girl in years, but as a woman keen ; — 
Her valorous arms reduced — her treasury spent,- 
Her people murmuring in discontent, — 
Her husband weak in body and in mind, — 
Her neighbors all against her rights combined ; 
Yet, notwithstanding these, a judgment clear, 
Determined will, and heart that knew no fear ! 
Pressed by usurping Prussia, France and Spain, 
She ne'er had yielded till a strife proved vain ; 
And now, coufined to Hungary alone. 
What hope remained to save her falling throne ? 
E'en there, the hearts most warm to do and dare 
Seemed shadowed by an undefined despair. 
She saw but one resort still unessayed, — 
In person to appeal to them for aid. 

A Diet summoned, clasping to her breast 
Her infant child, she in among them pressed ; 
Not condescendingly, but haughty still. 
Striving with pride like hers, their hearts to fill :■ 



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" Forsaken now by all, we seek from you 

What valor and fidelity may do ! 

Does Hungary falter, — or is Hungary true ?" — 

With shouts that made the echoes' answers ring. 

They eager cried : — ''We'll die for you, our King /" 

And some did die ! But haply not in vain. 

'Twas victory's guns that played their funeral strain, 

And victory's sons that joined that funeral train. 

And Hungary rose, by war's fair fortune fed, 

And far and wide a proud dominion spread ; 

Its ruler, wise in council, wise in war, — 

A noble icoman ! 

Let us not pass o'er. 
Unnoticed, that brave girl who did not not falter 
To lay her life upon her country's altar 
A willing sacrifice. She knew too well 
That she must fall, if, through her, Marat fell ; 
Yet, all her youthful yearnings cast aside. 
That thought sublime her only hope and pride, 
While conscience urged her with approving glance. 
Her maiden arm smote down the scourge of France ! 
Marat has gained an after fame most just — 
The world's abhorrence, hatred and disgust ; 
But Charlotte Corday, from her history's page. 
The admiration wins of every age ; 
For man, by nature, ever must adore 
Brave hearted woman ! 



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Nearer, now, once more, 
To our great " living present" let us seek ! 
We find that woman, gentle, mild and meek, 
A true devoted courage may possess, 
Unlike to those who on to onset press. 
And yet as grandly worthy of our praise, 
For her great deeds when dimmed the battle blaze. 

Through all the terrible Crimean war. 
When sanguine struggles of the strife were o'er, 
And, on the fields where " action" was the word, 
No other tones but moans and groans were heard. 
That came from dear one^ dying 'mid the dead, — 
While on the ghastly scene no light was shed. 
Save from white faces and bright glassy eyes. 
While blood-mists slowly rose against the skies ; — 
'Mid those dread horrors, both of sight and sound, 
There moved an angel o'er the Cain-cursed ground, 
Smoothing the death-damp from the soldier's face, — 
Soothing the sufferer in pain's embrace, — 
Speaking fond hopes of comfort, hope and cheer, 
To warm the heart and glad the longing ear, — 
Taking last messages from lips that moved 
With dying power for those they dearly loved ; 
And oft, 'mid kindly deeds, she breathed a prayer 
To God, for mercy for the fallen there. 

Again we see her in her goodness shine 
Along the hospital's long, loathsome line, 



13 

Caring for each, thus lying there alone, 

With tender hand as though he were her own, — 

Watching and waiting all the long night through, 

As only woman, noble-souled, can do ; 

But praises of mere words must ever fail 

To picture such as Florence Nig-hting-ale ! 

Leaving the Old World — daring ocean's might — 

Come to our native Nev/ ! 

With what delight 
We now turn o'er the bright, triumphal pages 
Of times that move the fates of future ages — 
The " days of '76," when Heaven with Earth 
Combined, to give a Great Republic birth. 
Behold the Woman's Record of tliB-^War ! 
Night's volumed stars are scarce illumined more ; 
For every woman strove to do her part. 
With all the might of mind, and hand, and heart ; 
Each nerving each, and by each other fired. 
While her bold spirit man himself inspired. 
Recall their faith, devotion, sacrifice, 
And feel you not some nobler impulse rise ? 
An honest pride in praise and glory won, 
By gallant deeds a sisterhand has done ? 
Is it not sweet to know that mother Eve, 
(But for whose sin we ne'er should need to grieve,) 
Has, thro' her daughter's courage, care and kiss, 
Done her full share to bring him back to bliss ? 



14 

The war that gave blest Freedom to our land, 
To be our birthright while the world shall stand, 
Has proved Columbia rich in woman-worth. 
As any nation on the boasting earth ! 

Once more our soil is sullied with the flood 
Of war's red river, rolling human blood ! — 
Once more gun answers gun, blade clashes blade, 
To save the nation that our fathers made, 
And all that pristine energy renew 
That made it one of glory's chosen few ! 
In ancient days, shone through the settled dark, 
Maria Theresa, and Joan of Arc. 
They had true greatness, but it doubly shone. 
For they, from all their sex, stood forth alone ; 
But, in our day, thro' time's progressive change, 
Brave, noble women are no longer strange. 
But from a constellation, grandly bright, 
Each star outvieing sister-stars in light. 
In ancient days, it needed woman's might. 
To lead reluctant soldiers to the fight ; 
But in 02i7' day, it needs but woman's love. 
To raise man's heart each cringing fear above ; 
And o'er the land's broad, beautiful expanse, 
Our soldiers wait the welcome word " advance !" 
And, o'er the sea, our gallant sailors guide 
The Yankee Iron-clads to the Soutliern side ! 



15 

While men like these our Country's honor shield, 
No looman needs to brave the bloody field ; 
And yet she shows still greater strength of heart, 
When her own word bids him she loves depart ! 

AVhy, there are mothers, sisters with us now, 
And wives, and maids held by the lover's vow, 
With son, and brother, — husband, — lover-*slain, 
Or struggling on the gory battle plain. 
Oh, patriotic woman, from the skies. 
May Heaven bless you for your sacrifice ! 
Thus rose the ranks that lasting honor won. 
But 'tis not all you and your sex have done ! 
How many now, like Florence Nightingale, , 
Serve in our Hospitals, amid the pale. 
Wan faces of the soldiers of tlie North, 
Who, for the flag they loved, to fight went forth, 
And wounded fell ! 



How many fingers fly. 
Their needs, with busy needles, to supply, — 
And all those many comforts to bestow 
That woman only has the tact to know ? 
Then, what an influence does she command ! 
In fact, 'tis woman's will tliat rules the land \ 
For well 'tis' known that, since the world began, 
Man ruled the nations^ woman ruled the 7nan ! 



16 

Then, woman, on ! — your mission is not done ! 
On with the work until the war is won ; 
Then, when the carnage of the strife is o'er, — 
Then, when the birds of battle shriek no more. 
But Doves of peace woo earth with voices sweet,- 
Man once again will kneel at woman's feet ! 
And New Columbia claim, forevermore, 
Her o-reatest uiories — Wo^tiAN and the War ! 



CV^,^ 



THE BATTLE. 

AFTER THE MANNER OF SCHILLER. 



■^ «^ » *- 



Like a cloud of dread, 
Heavy and dead, 
Is the sound of their earnest, anxious tread, 
As, with silent fife and noiseless drum, 
Over the plain of green they come. 
As far as the eye can see they spread. 

Each to take a hand in the wild iron game 
For the stakes of honor and deathless fame. 

Now fear for a moment has birth. 

Their eyes seek the earth, 
And their hearts beat madly and prompt them to fly. 
But fear must die ! — 
So in front, by the faces pale as death, 
The General gallops with quickened breath :— 



Halt I 



! " 



18 



And the regiments stand, 
Chained by tlie word of command. 
" Men ! In the glowing morning light, 
What gleams defiance from yonder height ? 
See, 'tis the flaunting Rebel flag !" 

With throbbing hearts, and eyes aflame. 
From soldiers throats the answer came : — 
" Yes, 'tis the cursed Rebel rag ! 
It shall fall, though in falling it cost^ us life I 
God be with you — children and wife ! " 
Hark to the drum ! — Ilark to the fife ! — 
Through the ranks ^summons pealing ; 
Rousing every noble feeling. 
Already fear is dead, 
And in its stead, 
A patriot courage fires each votive band. 
Born of their love for home and native land ! 

A prayer is wafted across the plain : 
" God g-rant, mij brolhe?', 
If not in this 'woricl, that in another 

We meet again " / 
Already dart war's lightning-flashes ! 
The cannon-thunder booms and crashes ! 

Now they shudder — and shrink — 
And quake — and quiver, 

As they feel that they stand on the brink 
Of death's river: — 



19 

But a shout greets their ears : — 

" Liberty !" 
And fled are their fears : 

" Liberty 1" 
' Tis their loatchtvord, and earnest and strong 
Once more are the hearts of each throng, 
As they pass that great watchword along : 
" Liberty !" 
Yes, shout it forth, 
Sons of the North ! — 
The very word makes the breast feel free : 
" Liberty !" 
But Death — Death has his Liberty too ; 
And roams at will, 
To strike— to kill, 
The ranks of the warriors through ! 
For the battle rages 
Through fiery stages, 
And every spark of the soul engages ; 
And, through the awful mist and cloud, 
Wrapt like shroud 
Over friend — over foe, 
The iron dice the death-demons throw I 

Close come the foemen for one dread embrace. 

''Ready!" 
A twitch at the lieart — a blanch of the face. 



20 

Down on their knees drop the foremost men, 
Many never to rise again. 

"Aim !" 

Steady for your loved-oncs' sake I 

"Fire!" 

What a gap tlie lead stream makes ! 
Those behind leap over the corpses before, 
And the front is solid mass once more. 
But reeling, and twirling, 
Right and left whirling. 
Now with ghastly grin, now with frightful frown, 
Dark death in his dance treads the bravest down ! 
Quenched is the sun, but more fiery the fight. 
Over both armies broods the black night ; 

While the prayer of anguisli bursts o'er the plain : — 
God grant ^ my brother^ 
If not in this ivorld, that in another 
We meet a^^ain I 



Blood — blood, the air is dense 

With the odor that sickens every sense. 

And each step there is a sucking sound, 

Afe- blood — blood oozes from the ground. 

Living and dead lie in mingled mass ; 

And the eager, undaunted ones, as they pass 



21 



Over them stagger, and stumble, and fall ; 
And their feet slide and slip, 
Like a reeling ship. 
In the boiling blood that is over all. 
The dying ones, curst 
With a withering thirst. 
Cry, " Water, for God's sake ! — one drop — only one !" 
But water there's none! — 

Only blood — hot blood from war's fountains run ! 
Hither and thither sways the fight. 
Darker, and darker broods the night ; 
And the prayer still rises from the plain : — 
" God grant, my brother, 
If 7iot in this luorld, that in another 
We meet again! " 

Hark ! — Who rush galloping by ? 

The Adjutants fly ! 
The Dragoons bear down on the foe ! 

''Blow, bugles, blow I " 
For the thunder and roar 
Of their cannon are heard no more. 

" Victory, brothers ! Victory I " 
Terror bursts on the cowards all ; — 
''Huzza I ^^ their colors fall ! 



22 

Ended, at last, is the sharp-fought fight, 
And day flashes over the conquered night. 
Now no foul stains 
Our flag retains, — 
The flag of the loyal — the flag of the right ! 
Hark to the drum ! — hark to the fife ! — 
No longer a signal for strife ; 
But merrily — cheerily |>ealing. 
Rousing each grateful feeling. 
The wounds of sorrow healing. 
Waking old joys to life. 

In their soul's rejoice 
All unite in one mighty voice, 
And the ranks along 
Burst forth in the glorious triumph song 

Of—" Victory I Vic " 

Through the hearts of joy shoot the throbs of pain. 
Oh the dead — the dead on the battle plain ! 
" Fareiu ell, fallen brother ! 
We part in this luorld, but in another 
We meet again!''' 



s^@^^^ 



AFTER THE BATTLE. 

Yesteriiiglit Death lield his revels, 

And his wine was scalding blood ; 
And his score of thirsty devils 

Set it streaming like a flood. 
Deep they drank, until a wliirling 

Madness siezed them in its gale ; 
And their raging songs came hurling 

Molten notes of iron hail. 

Through the black and awftd portals. 

Out upon the world they fell, 
'Mid the hosts of warring mortals. 

Like an avalanche of hell, 
Downward rushing, crashing, crushing, 

With a power that seemed divine ; 
While the broken beakers, gushing. 

Drenched the field with gory wine, 

Heaven heard the drunken bestials, — 

Angels saw their work of woe ; 
Lowly mourned the grand celestials 

Mighty Death should sink so low. 
Earth grows desolate and lonely,— 

Mortals waste beneath the blight ! 
Hearts, that once breathed blessings only, 

Curse the revels of that night ! 



L A U S DEO! 
I. 

Father, for Thy word and token, — 
For Thy promise still unbroken. 
That our faith in Thee should ever 
Bring success to good endeavor, — 
For Thy care and for Thy kindness 
To a nation in its blindness, 
Out of darkness, faint and bleeding, 
Brought to light by Thy loved leading. — 
That this nation still is living, — 
God, accept our heart's thanksgiving ! 

II. 

For the victories of Reason 

Over Slavery and Treason, — 

For the words that fell from Heaven 

Through the lips of Justice given, 

That our flag should ne'er hereafter 

Be a cause for Europe's laughter, 

But, as prayed its patriot planner, 

Freedom dwell 'neath Freedom's Banner !- 

For this, God, the gift of living, 

Oh, accept our heart's thanksgiving ! 



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